


A Case of Mistaken Identity

by GeckoGirl89



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Community: fic_promptly, Depression, F/M, Fatalism, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Mistaken Identity, POV Angel (BtVS), Post-Episode: s05e12 You're Welcome, Reckless Angel, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 10:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9435722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeckoGirl89/pseuds/GeckoGirl89
Summary: Angel stopped in his tracks, smelling Cordy's signature perfume.It couldn't be, could it?He looked down the sidewalk, where the woman talking on her cell phone had passed a few feet in front of him. She had shoulder-length brown hair, and she was the exact same height as Cordelia.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Any, Any, "For a minute, I thought it was you." on fic_promptly: http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/487272.html?thread=14634344#cmt14634344
> 
> Pay attention to the additional tags on this. Angel is very depressed, and his attitude towards life resembles suicidal ideation (so it could be a potential trigger).

Sometimes, Angel would see Cordelia in his dreams. Her bright smile, her giddy laughter when she said that she was back for good this time. She always seemed so real, so vivid in Angel's imagination. She was a perfect replica, from the scent of her perfume, to the little mole on her lower right cheek, to the soft way she touched his face.  
  
Angel never really got to kiss her or hold her, even in his dreams. The few times he would try, she would disappear or be insubstantial, like a ghost.  
  
Angel would wake from those dreams in the luxurious bed befitting his status as CEO of Wolfram & Hart and sob desperately when he remembered the phone call he had gotten that day, that Cordy had never woken up, had died in her coma.  
  
Angel didn't know how to exist in this world without her. He couldn't talk to his remaining friends about her death, but it wasn't as if they tried to get him to open up. Instead, they edged away from him, perhaps sensing Angel's volatility regarding the subject. Cordy had always been the one to drag him out of his brooding, anyway. She would probably rant at him if she saw how he was acting now, but this was honestly the best he could do without her by his side. His colder, rougher exterior was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to the despair and misery he felt since her death.  
  
He still carried on as best as he could during the day, but at night he had increased his patrols. If he could unleash his rage on some demon or vampire, so much the better. And if they killed him one of these days, Angel couldn't really say that he would be particularly bothered.  
  
He was on one of those patrols when he heard an all too familiar voice. "So, I told Mark there was no way I would go out with him." She made a pfft noise that was engraved in Angel's mind and heart. "As if! I do have  _some_  standards to maintain."  
  
Angel stopped in his tracks, smelling Cordy's signature perfume.  _It couldn't be, could it?_  
  
He looked down the sidewalk, where the woman talking on her cell phone had passed a few feet in front of him. She had shoulder-length brown hair, and she was the exact same height as Cordelia.  
  
Angel didn't think before he rushed to her. "Cordy! Cordelia!"  
  
The woman didn't turn, so Angel put a hand on her shoulder. "Cordy?"  
  
She turned, and Angel's heart sank. Her eyes were blue, and her mouth, which was frowning, was too small to form Cordelia's huge smile. She had no mole on her cheek. Now that Angel was closer and paying more attention, he could tell that the scent underneath the perfume wasn't Cordelia.  
  
It wasn't really her, of course. This was just like when he had felt her hand move a year ago in her coma, and Fred had to talk Angel down from his excitement by rationally explaining that it was probably just an involuntary muscle movement. Cordy wasn't alive, but there were women in this world who might share a few similarities with her. Just like before, Angel's wild, stupid hope had ultimately led to heartbreak.  
  
"Well? What do you want?" she asked. "Did you just want to be a creepy stalker? Because I've got mace in my purse, buddy, and I'm not afraid to use it."  
  
Angel withdrew his hand, attempting not to cry in front of this stranger. That voice and that attitude was pure Cordelia. "I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She marched off into the night, telling her friend about the "creepy weirdo" she just met.  
  
Angel continued on his planned route, turning and checking out another dark alley. He really hoped he would find some evil creature to kill tonight, if only to give him something else to focus on other than the fact that Cordelia was gone and was never coming back.


End file.
